


Written in Ink

by shomarus



Category: Carol (2015), The Price of Salt - Patricia Highsmith
Genre: Alternate Universe, Epistolary, F/F, Letters, Pen Pals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-03-13
Packaged: 2019-03-30 13:29:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13952580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shomarus/pseuds/shomarus
Summary: Carol signs up for a penfriend program. These are the letters written to her during that time.





	1. October 3rd, 1952.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a quick story that's already complete, so the chapters will be posted over the course of the day.
> 
> i've wanted to write epistolary work for a while and i figured why not start with carol?? this is just an introductory chapter.

Mrs. Aird,

 

Thank you dearly for applying to the Euro-American Pen Pal Society! This program wouldn’t exist without the help of people like you, and we dearly appreciate your support. Your assigned partner is Therese Belivet, from France. The address is enclosed within the envelope, and she’s already received yours. You should get your first letter within the month.

Feel free to mail us back with any concerns regarding your partner, the address, or the program in general! We hope this experience may open the path to a healthy learning experience and mutual friendship.

 

With sincerity,  
Noelle Fitz, Pen Pal Society.


	2. October 20th, 1952.

Mrs. Aird,

 

Hello! This is Therese Belivet, your new pen pal. I suppose that I should answer the questions that I’m about to ask, but I fear that my English may not be quite as good as it was when I was visiting America with my beau. I hope that it’s still fine, but I also hope you can turn a willful eye away from a mistake every now and again.

I’m currently nineteen years old and I’ve been around a fair bit of Europe already. I wish to work in stage design and have already done a bit of schooling for it, but I think there is too much competition here in France. Everyone wishes to be the contemporary Shakespeare nowadays, so it would be hard to find a job anywhere. I don’t know, it’s not really a lucrative career to begin with. I just think it would be fun to do, disregarding the impressiveness of the entire thing. Which it really isn't. I imagine you’ve already done much more interesting things.

Speaking of, I find that as I write this, I realize that I am not quite as interesting as I thought I may have been. Does that sound too self-hating? Maybe it does. Richard told me so—he’s my boyfriend. I’m letting him proofread my letters so they don’t sound too awkward. He wants to know if he’s doing a good job. =)

That was a lot to write. A lot more than what I’m used to writing typically in English, I mean. Not that I mind of course, but I think I am more excited than anything else. I’d love to see you write back and tell me a little bit about yourself: How old are you? Where do you work? Anything else you wanted to tell me? But only if you’re comfortable, of course. I would hate to scare you off so soon, haha.

 

I await with bated breath!  
Therese Belivet.


	3. November 14th, 1952.

Carol,

 

I want you to make special note of how I specifically wrote Carol instead of Mrs. Aird. It's not that I don't believe we can be friends, not at all! I’m just nervous around people I’ve never talked to before, although everyone else says I’m fine and that I am just a “brat”. I think that’s the English word for it. Not a very nice one. =(

I’m surprised you have a daughter! Though I guess it shouldn’t surprise me at all, I think it’s a common theme for women to start holing up with their suitors sooner rather than later, is it not? Especially in America. Odd little tangent for me to go off on, sorry! Point is, tell me about Rindy. She sounds like a darling from what little you've told me already.

And for what it’s worth, I do agree with you on the domesticity of housewife living. It seems kind of boring, I think. The thought that one day I’ll have to live like that with Richard makes me a little anxious. Actually, that is why I’m not having him read any of my future letters, haha. Not that I desire talking about him behind his back, of course! He’s a good man. ~~I’m just… well, the way I am.~~

To answer your question, I don’t have any family living with me. It’s just me and Richard and before him, it was just me on my own. Living in France isn’t really hard, but it’s a little lonely. Then again, it’s not as though I make the effort to talk to anyone, so that’s a fault of my own.

Today I’m going job-hunting again, if anything comes out of it I will let you know.

 

Are you having a pleasant day?  
Therese Belivet


	4. November 23rd, 1952.

Carol,

 

How cute! Rindy looks a lot like you, though I think it’s more apparent around the eyes. She’s got such wonderful greys. She’s so pretty, must have gotten it from her mother. And only four years old! 

It’s a shame about your husband though. From what I hear about you, I think it’s his loss. If it makes you happier, then I say good riddance!

I have some good news to share as well. Or, as good as it gets around here. I managed to find a job! To think, nearly winter and with no experience. I have Richard to thank, of course. He has a lot of connections to proficient people in the play network (does that make sense?). I wish you would be able to see the play in person. I think you’d like it, it’s a romantic opera.

Dannie took a nice photo of me, and since you’ve already sent me a photo of you, I’ll send this. I hope I’m not more plain than what you were expecting, haha.

 

From,  
Therese.

P.S., your French is actually fairly spot-on! Just remember j’ai instead of je suis. Vous for authorities, tu for friends! =)


	5. November 26th, 1952.

So, I know I didn’t really talk about it when we hung out yesterday but that’s because I’ll admit I was a little hungover. I don’t really know what to tell you, other than I wholly advise keeping your gay little emotions in check. It’s bad enough you’re into women, but cross-continental women? With some poor barely-legal girl in France? It’s almost like you have the worst taste in women. (Har dee har dee har—get it?)

Not saying you shouldn’t talk to her. Just don’t start whining about it to me when you start wishing she’s here with you. Or when you find out that she doesn’t swing with cats and you’re left in the dust. I mean, she’s some fellow’s young flame anyway. And what about when this whole thing fizzles out? I could keep going, but I won’t.

I know how this looks. I don't think that you can't pursue her, don’t take it the wrong way. I’m just worried about you, Carol. I don’t like seeing you hurt.

 

With love,  
Abby.


	6. December 19th, 1952.

Dear Carol,

 

Early Merry Christmas! I don’t have any presents to send you, but that’s because me and Richard will be visiting New York for New Years. It’s pretty convenient that he has family there, isn’t it? I’ll have a gift to hand to you in person—assuming you’re comfortable with me coming to you! 

This letter is brief, but I’m sure we’ll have a lot to talk about when we’re together!

 

See you soon!  
Therese.


	7. December 29th, 1952.

Carol,

 

It’s not polite to hang up on people when they want to discuss their children. I’m picking up Rindy for New Years. Have her ready for me for Wednesday.

We need to talk.

  
Hargess Aird.


	8. January 15th, 1953.

Either you’ve got some major game or you’ve got no clue what the hell it is you’re doing. Frankly, considering how long I’ve known you, I’m willing to wager it’s the latter.

Good work, I guess? I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t even know if  _ you _ know what you want me to say, Carol.

You had sex with her.

It’s not that I don’t support you. I’m with you wherever, whenever. But when I told you to sign up for that program, I didn’t mean go wild on the first person you meet. People already suspect your lesbianism, who cares if you have Rindy? And Therese… she’s still taken, she’s still going back to France. 

Maybe I’m just a really big worrywart. Worrying about nothing. I don’t know.

Listen, if there is something that you need from me, don’t hesitate to call. I’ll be with you every step of the way.

 

Abby.


	9. January 18th, 1953.

Carol Aird - Private and Confidential

 

Swing by my office sometime this week. There’s something we need to discuss, involving Rindy. I don’t want to give you too many details now, but come in as soon as you can. 

 

Many thanks,  
Fred Haymes


	10. February 14th, 1953.

My love,

 

How my heart sings! Americans idealize the concept of French summers, artistic portraits and nights set by the sun. Yet here I am in the middle of winter, surrounded by ink and paper, cameras and pencils and love. They say the workspace is representative of a person and I wonder if I can really disagree. I’m a mess, that’s true, but it’s only started since I’ve begun to talk to you. A mess of adoration, I think.

I asked Richard if we could visit America during the summer. He wondered why. How would he know, how could he know? It makes me feel bad. Perhaps I will leave him soon.

The world seems so much brighter since I’ve met you. I hope you enjoy the record I gave you. If you wondered, I’ve been taking lots of photos with my rangefinder. I’ve sent you some photos, as well as a special little sketch for you. It’s not much, but I want you to have it anyway.

And of course, I love you. Je t’aime! It’s nice to say it, though I wish I were there to see you in person. Happy Valentine's day.

 

Love,  
Therese.


	11. February 25th, 1953.

My love,

 

I didn’t know you were interested in coming to France to see the play I worked on. It’s a little embarrassing because I don’t think I did my best work. I don’t know, I want you to see it. I want you to be proud of me. Is that weird to say? I want everything from you.

It debuts next month! Here’s one of the posters, I asked if I could send one to you and they let me have it. Let me know when you arrive, I want to be there to greet you. I think Richard wouldn’t mind it if I stayed with you for a while, helping you get used to France and all that. He’s a little naive at times. I think it comes from the fact he loves me so desperately, and I don’t know why he continues to try.

Hm. That sounded mean, but I suppose that love is tough.

In any case, I hope we can meet up soon.

 

Therese.


	12. March 7th, 1953.

My love,

 

I ended up breaking it off with Richard like you suggested. Or rather, Richard ended up breaking it off with me. He went through my more incriminating letters last night and he wasn’t particularly pleased. We’re through now. He didn’t deserve to find out that way, but it was going to happen sooner or later. Don’t worry, I’m safe. You hear about it so often in France that at some point you grow desensitized to it.

I don’t really care that Richard is gone. It feels more as though a burden’s been lifted. He still loves me, he said as much. Sooner or later he’ll realize it wasn’t quite meant to be.

Anyway, I’ll see you when you get here. I love you.

 

Therese.


	13. March 13th, 1953.

Carol,

 

It’s nothing personal. You know this. I know you know this. Even if you may hate me, I still love you. You’re still my wife. Rindy can still be our child.

I’ll be in New York next week for a business meeting, if you want to meet up, perhaps we can solve this whole issue like adults. To make sure we haven’t regressed into toddlers.

 

With love,  
Hargess Aird.


	14. June 22nd, 1953.

Carol,

 

Don’t you know how to make a girl feel like she’s on top of the world, huh? It’s been months—why haven’t you sent anything? The post says you’ve been receiving my letters, so don’t give me that excuse. A month I could understand, but it’s been so long...

Do you want me as badly as I want you? I think of you every day, even still.

Show me that I'm not thinking for no reason.

 

I miss you,  
Therese.


	15. July 1st, 1953.

Carol Aird - Private and Confidential

 

Alright. This month. Court date is coming up soon. I’m putting in more than my fair share of work, believe me, but it’s going to be hard. I need you to cooperate best you can if you want the best outcome, but I can’t give you false hope like that. It isn’t right. So prepare yourself for the worst if you must.

 

Good luck,  
Fred Haymes.


	16. July 7th, 1953.

The nerve of that bastard.

How dare he? It’s not right, it’s just not right. I’m still out of town for now, but let me take you to lunch this week. We’ll fantasize about Harge tripping before some fancy-ass business function or something. Whatever you want, consider it done. You just let me know.

By the way, how’s everything with Therese? Inquiring minds wish to know. Sending you both lots of love.

 

Stay safe,  
Abby.


	17. October 3rd, 1953.

Carol,

 

Happy one year.

I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. 

~~ You know that I want things to go back to the way they were. Before all of this. I won’t even say I love you anymore. ~~

 

Therese.


	18. October 10th, 1953.

Mrs. Aird,

 

So the snake has a tongue after all.

I’m sending back your photos. I no longer have a use for them. Don’t bother sending me any letters either, not that you’d care to in the first place. I’m not going to read them because you believe it's within your rights to play with me as though I’m some kind of doll. I love you, fierce as the day I first realized, but I refuse to allow myself to become a pawn to your manipulation, to chase you around because you’re so in love with the idea of being pursued.

Think whatever you want about me, tell whoever you want. I used to have a reason to care.

I hope this is what you fucking wanted.

 

Au revoir,  
Therese Belivet.


	19. January 12th, 1954.

Carol,

 

I know what I said about not reading any of your letters. Don’t gloat about it.

I’m not interested in moving in with you. I don’t think I have it in me to jump back into the fire only after the burns have scarred over. But I think you’d want to know that I’ve been looking at moving to America. I’ve been corresponding with some estate agents, I may be able to find an apartment in New York while I’m there. There isn’t anything left for me here in France, aside from a few stray job offers I have no interest in picking up. So I think it’s time I see more of the world.

God. It’s silly, isn’t it? I’ve been trying so hard to deny the fact that I still care about you. I just wanted to make you feel even a fraction of the hurt you made me feel. I still wonder if I had crossed the line.

 

From,  
Therese.

 

P.S.,  
Please don’t say you love me again. I won’t be able to cope.


	20. April 5th, 1954.

Carol,

 

Last night was great. The proud part of me wants to say it was simply alright, but it's true. I had a lot of fun and I hope that you feel the same. Perhaps we can meet up at Josie's again if you'd like?

On paper, I think it's easier to get my feelings out. Second chances aren’t easy to come by around here, and in a world like they only exist as empty promises. You're lucky that you're beautiful, you know that? =) And that you have such a charming personality. I'll admit you've made the move to America a lot easier, and I think that at some point perhaps there will be hope for... whatever we had to spark once more. So I'm not ready to jump back into whatever that was with you, not immediately. 

But we can still be friends. I’m willing to try that again.

 

With all of my love,  
Therese.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it's done! i really did mean to post all of it yesterday but a lot of sudden things came up and uhhhh whoops, could only get to posting them today. but really, thank you to everyone who went through this with me! i could possibly do a response fic with carol's letters in tow but at the same time i think i kind of like the idea of letting it be ambiguous. i have other stuff i want to try with them at some point, including a few modern oneshots (and of course, trying to scrabble to finish my longfics lmao)
> 
> that aside, thank you again!

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
